Ulef whl'q'n nenikaya travek
by Mygayshoes
Summary: "She petitioned the Vulcan High Council for recognition of her Clan. And it gets better; it's entirely comprised of Half-Vulcans and run out of a San Francisco apartment!" Being stuck between two species is bound to cause growing pains. (Begins pre-movie)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: ****I hold no rights to any of the worlds depicted within, only the content of my own dreams.**

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The paint was chipping from the walls, and the floorboards were stained and scratched from many years of wear and tear. The windows were dusty, the bathroom hardly appeared like it could satisfy local building codes and the kitchen was certainly growing it's own eco-system. Furniture still sat in various stages of unpacking; Most would certainly never be unpacked and instead be relegated to the deepest depths of numerous closets. It wouldn't bode well to get rid of gifts; but that certainly didn't mean that she needed a set of Vulcan bells and gongs in her living room.

The dark-haired woman padded barefoot across the floor; nursing a mug of Tea in one hand, while tugging at the strings of her jacket with the other. She sniffed delicately she paused at the mirror hanging on the wall; her reflection stared back with it's dark eyes and even darker thick curly hair. Her hair was certainly not the romanticized luscious curly hair either, but something that resembled thick growth of thorns, which had broken many a brush in it's days.

It was only because she hated the stares that her ears attracted that she hadn't buzzed it short years ago.

In a self-compromise of sorts, she juggled her Tea in the crook of her arm and pulled her hair into a reasonable bun. It was only going to remain up while she was secluded inside, and thus the chance of yet another slack-jawed joe staring at her was minimized enough. Still, it was rare that she allowed herself the luxury of a bun, as it left her ears too exposed.

Exposed they certainly were; her left ear sharply angled into a familiar Vulcan shape, while the other as round and as human as they could possible be. Whether this was the results of her hybrid DNA; a hot glue-gunned collection of features, or whether her one ear has simply grew deformed, like so many Vulcan newborns, she wasn't entirely sure. All she did know however was that both ears combined attracted too much attention, and too many bigoted opinions.  
And she had no intentions of electing for reconstructive surgery, and being forced to make a decision between her two halves.

Taking her tea back into her hands, she padded towards her desk, and relaxed into the seat before she poked at the desktop monitor blearily. Moving everything in, by herself, the day before had taken too much out of her. Exhaustion, combined with the incessant racket that signaled the beginning of another year for Starfleet Academy, produced an even worse result.

Within seconds the call from her monitor had been sent out, and the screen was quickly replaced with an image of a blue-eyed man, with dark hair just a little too shaggy to have been cut that way. His features were soft, combined with raised eyebrow, and two rows of spots going down each side of his body from his forehead.

The blue-eyed man stared disapprovingly through the desktop monitor, eyes narrowed as if trying to determine what other horrors were hidden, just out of his vision. In the few seconds that he had inspected her apartment, he had clearly formed his own opinion, "Where are you located?"

"Good morning to you too, Elieth." The dark-haired woman sarcastically replied, raking a hand through her long tangled hair, "Have you had a good day? I know I have, I missed you too."

"Ha'tha ti'lu T'ana," Elieth replied bluntly, "Your point has been made. Mine still stands. Where are you?"

"Tiana. I am 'located' in my new apartment," The dark-haired woman retorted, "San Francisco; actually I can see Starfleet academy from my window. You could come over and throw water balloons at cadets with me, if you want."

"Hardly an appropriate use of my time T'ana," He rolled his eyes, "Nor entirely legal, as you may be charged with assault."

"Tiana." She retorted hotly, "It doesn't count if they're cadets."

"A cadet rank does not remove them from the Terran, or Starfleet, legal system," Elieth responded dryly, "Perhaps you require more time to reflect upon your irrational distrust of Starfleet officers?"

"Irrational? My mother was a Starfleet officer," The dark-haired woman countered, "In any-case how's the family? I heard Simora just accepted a chef's position on a Vulcan science-vessel?"

"You have heard correctly; we are content," Elieth paused, "However, you have not succeeded in your attempt to divert the topic of this conversation. My reservations on your apartment being neither a healthy nor productive environment are valid."

"Duly noted Captain," The dark-haired woman saluted, "Are you coming down next week for the annual meeting of the 'ulef whl'q'n nenikaya travek'? Hint, the answer is 'yes'."

"Despite spending a large portion of your childhood on Vulcan, your understanding of the language is sub-par," He commented, "Besides, I certainly do not require a support group because only one of my parents were Vulcan."

"Despite aligning yourself with your Vulcan parentage, you sure are the sassiest guy I've ever met," She snorted, "So, am I setting out another seat at the veggie bar for you, or are you going to ditch us again and go and continue your joyride on the Merchant Ship T'saln?"

Elieth raised his eyebrow, "I have already tendered my RSVP as per your instructions. The T'saln is currently docked at Jia'anKahr, although we will be departing in the next 4.8 hours; we will be spending shore leave on Earth- a fact which is quite pleasing to our human crew members."

"Jia'anKahr?" She questioned, before a smile grew across her face, "How's T'Mir?"

"She has just passed the first trimester of pregnancy."

"..Wait, seriously?" Tiana beamed, "Why wasn't that the first thing you told me? You're going to be a father; I'm going to be an Aunt! Girl or boy? Have you decided on any names?"

"This is precisely why I did not inform you of this occurrence immediately," Elieth responded dryly, "I believe that T'Mir intends to inform our k'war'ma'khon when we are all gathered at our annual event. She has however, granted that our ko-kai would be granted prior knowledge, and due to our current situation she will accept submitted names for consideration."

The man paused for a second to allow his companion time to allow the knowledge to sink in, "I believe Simora has submitted the names 'T'nae' and 'Suven', although T'Mir has expressed that she would prefer to find a name that balances the mixed Trill, Andorian and Vulcan aspects of the child's heritage."

"Tell her I'll give her a list." Tiana vowed, with a solemn expression.

"Shaya tonat," Elieth responded, "I have one final query to ask of you. Today I was privy to several rumors concerning a half human who petitioned the Vulcan High Command for the recognition of their own Clan, which would offer only half-vulcans a place within its walls. They claimed that they would take full responsibility for any hybrid Vulcans who have found themselves without a Clan, and to take pressure off the High Command by removing these people from pre-existing support structures funded by the high Command itself. They apparently presented a convincing case. "

"Fancy that."

"You are playing a dangerous game, for one so young," Elieth noted, "I am concerned that you have not considered all the ramifications of your actions. It is rare that new clans are created, and never before has one been granted to someone who is of two worlds. It is being questioned if you could introduce enough members into this new clan to have a self-sustaining House, and whether you will be able to politically create ties between clans. Failure would mean certain death for many potential members. "

"You will have a child soon that is of three worlds," Tiana responded, lifting her head proudly, "And if we cannot find our own place within this universe, how will they? The fact remains that our of 25 Vulcan hybrids- that we know of- only six have functioning Clan ties, and that doesn't even consider that only two are involved in their Clans. take myself for example; in name I have a clan, but in practice? What happens when these people have their own children? I mean, look what happened last month- we almost lost a family member because they had no idea about Pon Farr, or half-Vulcan physiology in general. We need these support structures in place, where we can at least say 'look, we can provide you with information to keep yourselves alive'."

" I have full confidence that you will fight for the completion of this task, if out of nothing more than sheer will power. If that day occurs, I and my family, would be honored to take a place within your House, if you would allow us," Elieth held his hand up, to silence her before she responded, " T'Mir and I discussed this potential outcome as soon as we had heard a rumor of this occurrence. What we are questioning however, is whether you would be able to cope with the demands of Vulcan Politics. It is no secret that you have chosen a path to balance your dual heritage, but that in itself, can be viewed as emotional weakness. I advise you to speak to Simora as soon as possible. She has experience in the climates in which you will need to adjust your behaviors. "

"Thank you, El." Tiana replied, "Rom-halan!"

"Sochya eh dif," The blue-eyed man responded, "We will send notice when we are in orbit, T'ana."

The paint may be chipping from her walls, and the floorboards stained and scratched, but the problems that the apartment had were easily fixable, and superficial at most. Because in the end, it was still going to be home, and her own to do as she pleased. It would be big enough to house the ulef-whl'q'n, the half Vulcan's who made up her family, and while her house wasn't as fancy, or as old as some on Vulcan, it was still good enough for now.

Family; for that she'd willingly tolerate brown-nosed cadets and their obsessive militaristic patriotism to Starfleet, who lived across the street, and the stringent Vulcans who may stand in her path to create something good out of the problems they have created.  
Because it was home.  
100% hers, and it was going to be built up stronger than anything before.

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**Translation**

**Ha'tha ti'lu**:** "**Good morning"

**Ulef whl'q'n nenikaya travek**: "Half Vulcan Support Group" *A direct word for words transliteration.***  
**

**Jia'anKahr**: A city, in the Lyr T'aya region of Vulcan.

**T'saln**: A ship named after a Vulcan composer who lived prior to the 21st century.

**k'war'ma'khon**: As close as family but not genetically related.

**Shaya tonat**: Thank you

**Rom-halan**: Farewell/good bye

**Sochya eh dif**: Peace and long life

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	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: ****I hold no rights to any of the worlds depicted within.**

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The dark eyed woman glared with the passion of a thousand dying suns. At least, that was the self-narrated line that ran through her head as she scrubbed the stained floors with her thick brush, leaving streaks of suds across the floor.

"You need to pull your elbows in," The lighter haired woman commented lightly as she scrubbed at the titled walls with her own cloth, "You are only going to place unnecessary pressure on your elbows and tire rapidly with that alignment."

Tiana continued to glare. It seemed that it was impossible for any Starfleet officer to ever look dishevelled or unkempt; the only logical conclusion was that Starfleet offered a secret course in the subject, teaching its cadets how to always look like a million credits, even through hellish conditions.

Such as the hellish conditions that arose from being forced to scrub down a bathroom floor with a glorified toothbrush.

It was the only conclusion. Even after having arrived after a long sleepless shuttle from Vulcan and insisting on scrubbing the bathroom, Simora was as collected and polished as ever. Not even a single strand of her distinctly Trill-like hair was out of place, and her clothing was as pressed and stainless as ever. So it was definitely a top secret Starfleet secret. Nothing else could account for the cracked nails, red raw hands, dripping soapy clothing and impenetrably tangled hair that was a sheer unavoidable outcome of scrubbing down a goddamn entire bathroom to kill any semblance of bacteria that was missing from her person.

Yet another reason to dislike Starfleet had arisen.

"May I enquire as to the health of my mother dearest?" Tiana eventually breeched, ignoring the subtle digs of the older woman, "I believe she may have taken offense at my terrible memory lapse of her birthday."

"She is well," Simora replied without any semblance of infliction, "Although her emotional health is yet to be determined."

Tiana ignored the dig, "I hear that she's taken a new assignment teaching cadets the finer points of orbital engineering?"

"You have heard correctly."

"I need a break," Tiana paused to sigh and throw her brush across the room in mock-anger. The distinctly human expression drew the disapproving glance she had been hoping for. It was strange, how non-Vulcan reactions had essentially become a running joke between them.

"We have only been undertaking this task for the past ten minutes," The elder woman protested, with hints of disapproval in her voice, "It would be more appropriate to continue these activities until we have completed at least a small section of this room."

"Well, 'more appropriate' implies that taking a break now holds at least some form of propriety, that I intend to take full advantage of," Tiana stretched out, hearing the crack from her bones with mild interest, "I was considering submitting the names 'Olvek' and 'T'ala' to T'Mir and Elieth."

Simora hesitated at the sudden mis-direction of their conversation. Her lip twitched downwards, but she gave no further verbalisation as to her stance, "May I enquire why you have selected such names?"

Tiana pulled the boots from her feet, and slowly removed the tension from her feet with audible cracks, "Both names exist in Vulcan, Andorian and Human tongue. If Olvek wants to be Olvek he can and he'll fit in on either Vulcan or Andoria. But if he wants to be 'Ollie' then he can rock that too. T'ala works better. I mean I know several 'Talas' on Andoria and it's just another unusual spelling of the name Taylor..."

"I think they both will be pleased with the amount of thought you are considering for your suggestions," The plump woman carefully considered, "They are also pleasing names."

Tiana winced as the bones in her foot cracked and echoed around her apartment, "I hope so. I don't want the poor kid stuck thinking that they don't have the right to make their own choices about the path they want to follow. I mean, if little T'ala wants to be a professional soccer player, so for it! If T'ala wants to commit themselves to Kohlinar, I'd be as proud as punch. If T'ala wants to serve in the Andorian imperial Guard, I'll iron that goddamn uniform myself. Hell, if T'ala wants to do all those things, I'll be supporting that kid all the way."

"T'Mir and Elieth echo your sentiments. I do not believe that they would impose their own desires on their child," The woman's face was neutral, but her lip noticeably frowned, "That is clearly not a healthy sound. Have you visited your physician to determine the cause of the pain in your feet?"

Tiana dismissed her words with a wave of her hand, "Yeah, she just grumbled about firing whoever stuck my genes together. Apparently my feet-bones are a miss-match of Vulcan bones made of Human density bone and Human bones with Vulcan bone density and just the sheer fact that my geneticist attempted to integrate my Human-Vulcan skeletal structure instead of using 'common sense' and letting a dominant one develop. She almost cried when she saw how my internal organs were set out; something about how no hybrid should have two sets of vital organs."

"There is nothing she can do to dull the pain?"

"Nah, she thinks I'll need a wheelchair by the time I'm 50 though," Tiana paused, "I'm still not sure how well that is on the scale of my potential lifespan. I mean, I could be Vulcan-aged, or Human-aged. Either way she thinks that my lifespan is going to be cut short of whatever it could have been, just because the bogus geneticist did such a half-assed job. Something about how hybrids should be 'a sweet symphony of instruments slowly gliding into each other' and not 'held together with duct tape and a prayer'."

Simora's frown deepened.

"There's nothing anyone can do," Tiana replied carefully, "It just has to be accepted that I'm essentially a failed hybrid. The process used to create me is flawed- and nothing short of total genetic augmentation can correct that- however, I wouldn't be me afterwards, would I?"

"Indeed," Simora paused, "May I ask personal queries relating to your desire to form your own recognised clan?"

Tiana hesitated as she slipped her foot back into her slipper, and moved her hands to start on the second, "Sure; I mean, I value your input greatly, due to your superior knowledge of Vulcan society."

"What would you name this clan?"

"The clan of Vuhnaya," Tiana grinned, "The Clan of Diversity. Corny I know, and out of step with Traditionally named Clans, but I want it to be known that we follow the ideology of Kol-Ut-Shan; Of Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations without selection and without exception."

"At the summons you must name Vulcan's who have stated a willingness to take responsibility of the growth and wellbeing of the creation of this clan. Who would you name?"

"I would name those who have consented to my naming," Tiana replied, "Elieth, T'Mir and their dependents, S'Task and Savaj, T'Pragh, Eskren and her dependents. Bellefeuil and Sera. I'm hoping I can convince a few full-blooded Vulcan's to allow us to give honorary membership to their children; essentially making us a 'godparent house' that'll take them in no questions asked if they want to leave their clans. Of course Simora, I extend an invitation to yourself to join if you so please."

"I must decline your offer," Simora paused to gauge the reaction from her companion, "I will be defending your right to the creation of a clan. It would be seen as a conflict of interest if I were to accept your offer. However in the event that I reproduce, I will be willing to grant your invitation to my offspring."

"Well, at least I get your first born child."

Simora's lips thinned, "T'ana. This is a serious matter. You have little foundation for this clan besides your imagination. You require a social standing. While I am able to call in the favours owed to me by various officials, you must create an image and build your own network of individuals with substantial connections. The Vulcan High Command is not in the business of granting your wish on the basis of 'you want it'."

"You're saying that if I want to create a Clan of my own, I have to con, beg, borrow and buy it?" Tiana responded slowly, "Look, Simora- I know they're not going to be easy to convince- but we have a logical approach and argument."

"I have called in a favour from a former colleague, he operates a legal firm specialising on Vulcan, and Clan Law. He is quite experienced in legal proceedings with the Vulcan High Command," The elder woman paused, "After significant discussion, he has began the Legal proceedings and paperwork necessary for the first stage in this task, and has vocalised the same concern as I. You simply have a lack of weight against your word. We have summarised two solutions."

"I do not like the direction in which this conversation is directing, "Tiana bit her bit in frustration, "What are you suggesting?"

"The first option is to apply for the Vulcan Science Academy; you may be able to build connections amongst the younger generations of important Clan titleholders, while establishing yourself as a capable and logical selection as a Clan Leader. The disadvantage of such an approach, is the inherit risk that your study will inadequate, and surveillance a risk to your future standing, especially considering your non-Vulcan education."

"We're ruling that one out," Tiana shook her head; "I was raised on Earth, under a dubious homeschooled education. I can barely construct an essay in Standard, let alone in Vulcan. Even with my medically diagnosed Dyslexia, I doubt any medical considerations would help. The second?"

"Starfleet."

"No."

"T'ana-"

"NO," Tiana snapped, "I will not."

"Then you will not be creating a Clan. Shall I begin sending messages to cease-and-desist in this attempt at the creation of Clan Vuhnaya?"

Tiana winced at the barb in the words, "What do you suggest I study? I am utterly unsuited to Security, or Command. I am unable to speak my native language of Vulcan correctly which is an example of my inability to undertake Communications, and I doubt I would be a capable Doctor!"

"However you have clearly inherited your mother's predisposition towards Engineering," Simora responded with strange cock of her head, "Considering the basic fact that Starfleet is always interested in acquiring Engineers-"

"I still need to be sponsored into the Academy."

"Your mother, who undertook your education, is a Starfleet Officer. Even considering your incomprehensible reasons of maintaining a constant mode of non-communication with her, if you apply the Academy will be required to contact her," Simora's voice grew sharp, "And there is no doubt with your Engineering capabilities that your mother will not recommend you."

"I'm doing fine here now," The dark haired woman snapped back, "I have an apartment that most my age would be envious of, and I have a stable job."

"You are a maintenance and repair person," The half-Trill's voice was final, "I am sure that Bill the owner's stunning recommendation to the Vulcan High Command will surely bring out your illustrious rise to Clan Mother."

Tiana snarled, throwing her boot across the room and glowing at the suds on the floor in anger.

"**Fine**!"

"Then we can arrange your application letter after we have finished cleaning this Bathroom," The woman gracefully rose from the floor, "However, we will take morning tea for now while you finish throwing your temper tantrum and learn to keep your emotions in control."

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